


Stupid Brat

by bitterbeefcake



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Blackmail, Control Kink, Idiot Barbarian vs. Literally the King of the Realm, King Decides to Teach a Lesson, M/M, My Boy is Rude, Toys, fear kink, rape/noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterbeefcake/pseuds/bitterbeefcake
Summary: Laszlo and his friends just got back from a long journey, and the King decides to play a little game with the rude barbarian bastard himself. He's a 5'4, 25 year-old freckled twunk/certified himbo. I think King Roland is in his 40's? also he's hot.The friendo's and I are doing a homebrew/5e mixture campaign, so my bad if it's hard to follow. Basically, my idiot boy promised some info about the neighboring/rival country to the hot king, then said country led an attack on the king's city. Laszlo and his gang awkwardly fled the scene but are now back annnnd like....someone ain't too happy about it. Also Laszlo's originally from the rival country....coincidence? Maybe.Please mind the tags, this is noncon/rough stuff.Kovos (Kowe-vose)- big cool capital of Korstrum, city that the hot king lives inRegno (Ren-yo)- big BAD country where a hot evil bitch livesKorstrom (Core-strum)- fuckin' big (I think) not-evil countryTuathali- really hot evil human cuck queen of Regno, looks like Cersei but w/platinum hair/purple eyes because it's dnd--
Relationships: Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s), Original D&D Character(s)/Other(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

The half-elf man stopped writing in his journal in the late evening as he heard some shuffling outside his bedroom window. It was late, he and his friends partying until everyone got stupidly drunk. They had all just returned from a heavy mission, and they were ready to unwind.

Laszlo had gone to his room, rubbed a fumbled quickie out, and took a small nap, waking up at around midnight. He was still nervous about being back in their mansion at Kovos, the tension of leaving right when Regno ambushed the city left a sour feeling in the boy’s gut. Two months of being on the seas, in new territory, defeating a fucking _lich_...it was getting too much for him to handle. And with his recent bickering with his friend Cassiel over magic shit, the half-elf seemed unruly.  _ Even after a party my mind won’t let me rest, gods… _ he thought, returning to his journal once the noises quieted down. 

He was still a little buzzed as he wrote, sitting on a dusty chair in his underwear and a loose, ratty tank top. Right as he was about to turn in fully for the night, he heard another shuffling noise, followed by a small-clanking.  _ Was that armor?  _ Shutting his journal quickly, Laszlo turned to the window, grabbing one of his hatchets just in case. Bracing for an attack, he silently peeked out the window. His half-elven eyes looked into the darkness, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.  _ Maybe it was just Grudaan… _

Suddenly, he felt a hard whack to the side of his head and everything went black.

\--

Groggily opening his eyes, Laszlo felt chilly as he woke up in an unfamiliar setting. 

“Where--,” he mumbled, groaning at the pain in his head. Looking around, his eyes widened. He was in a luxuriously decorated room, reds and golds covering almost every inch of the place.  _ Is this an...office? _ He thought, looking at a fancy-looking desk on the far end. Laszlo tried to move his arms, but they were tied securely behind his back, causing him to panic.

“Oi oi, shit, what? Where the fuck--!” he began to shout, jolting himself as he tried to stand, realizing his feet were loosely tied at the ankles. “Goddamn it, where am I?” he yelled into the room, trying to force himself into a rage, but for some off-putting reason, no matter how hard he tried, his power would not awaken.  _ What the fuck is happening? _ He worriedly thought.  _ Where’s everyone else? _

“Shut your gob, whelp,” Laszlo swivelled his head to look at a door opening. It was a Kovos guard, dressed in gold armor with a deep red cape billowing behind him. He was an older human, and didn’t look too pleased. “Keep talking like that and we’ll gag ye, understand?”

“Did you fucking do this? I’ll eat your parents you bitch, get this shit off me,” Laszlo snarled out, glaring daggers at the older man as he walked into the room. Another guard followed shortly. They both stood there, hands on the pommels of their swords, staring.

“What-what do you want?” Laszlo demanded, damning himself for stuttering. He had no weapon, no friends to help.  _ No fucking appropriate clothes...gods. _

“Quit your bitching, boy,” the older guard said, coming closer. Laszlo tried to scooch back, but the restraints did nothing to help. The guard’s armored feet were so close to the half-elf’s face, his breath puffed out on the plated shoes. 

“I kinda like him when he’s like this,” the other younger guard said haughtily, moving to the opposite side of Laszlo. “All nice and tied up, like a little present.”

“Just get him up, I don’t have all night,” the older guard growled out, and the pair of them roughly grabbed and manhandled Laszlo into a standing position, although it wasn’t an easy feat as the boy decided to fight and squirm to the best of his ability. Receiving a harsh blow to the gut, Laszlo wheezed, almost falling to his knees if it weren’t for the bastards’ hands on him.  _ Why did that hurt so much? _

“Why-what did you do to me, I can’t--,” He ground out, struggling to keep his form straight from the hit.

“Conked ye out with a spell; don’t need ye trying to go all ragey batshit on us,” the young guard said behind him, grabbing a handful of Laszlo’s fluffy mauve hair and pulling back harshly. 

“You fucking bitch I’ll--,” Laszlo couldn’t finish his sentence when he received a rough backhand to the face, whipping his head to the side. 

“I said enough of that damn mouth, rat,” the older guard commanded, keeping his gauntlet-covered hand up in warning. Definitely feeling that hit, Laszlo tried to maintain his composure, glaring at the man in front of him.

“Let’s go,” the guard said to the other, and together they forced Laszlo to awkwardly stumble out of the room and down a dark hallway; the floor was cold on the boy’s bare feet. He quickly scanned the hallway for any way of getting out of this mess, but he was met with more guards lining the hall, staring at him as they passed. Laszlo grew nervous, not liking how eerily familiar this felt, and he tried to dig his feet in to stop when they reached another door.

As they approached, the door swung open, two more guards in the same armor as the older looking down in disdain at the trio.  _ Are they all kingsguard?  _ Laszlo kept his face stoic, not helping the tremble as they went into the room; this one was...warmer? Dark red curtains billowed softly over huge, arched windows overlooking the city, and the room was covered in soft red-and-gold-patterned carpets, stark contrast to the black tiled floors. A luxurious bed was to the left, and a fireplace was on the opposite end, where a man sat, sipping a glass of what appeared to be wine. Moving a bit closer, Laszlo could see the man was wearing a fancy-looking robe, loosely tied at the waist, and could see immaculately beaded/jeweled dreadlocks curling around the man’s hairy chest, a single golden necklace dipping below the robe.

“We brought him as soon as he awoke, your Majesty,” the older guard tiredly spoke. Laszlo squinted as they got closer, and then made a noise in the back of his throat.

“ _ You _ ?” Laszlo blurted, earning another harsh tug at his hair. Shit it’s the fucking  _ king.  _ Laszlo stared in confusion as the man fluidly rose, placing the glass down on a small end table. Turning to face the trio fully, Laszlo suddenly felt very out of place and underdressed. King Roland himself walked closer, stopping a few feet in front of them, hands folded behind his back.

“That didn’t take long, I’m honestly surprised,” he stated, his voice a deep baritone. “Thought he would have put up more of a fight.”

“Stupid boy thought we were at the window,” the guard behind Laszlo chuckled. “It was easy to sneak in, they were all plastered.”  _ Curse my fucking shit-hearing _ , the half-elf thought angrily. 

“How long--what?” Laszlo growled out. “You were  _ spying  _ on us?”

“Can’t be too careful as of late, boy,” the older guard glared at him, his grip tightening.

“We watched you for a while, too,” the haughty guard said, “ _ someone _ was a little too preoccupied with their hands down their pants to notice--,” Laszlo snarled, headbutting the guard behind him, hearing a crunch as he broke the man’s nose. The guard grunted in pain.

“Go fuck yourself you goddamn-- _ oof _ !” He was quickly dealt another cruel punch to the gut; the guard behind him pushed him to the ground harshly, at the king’s feet. Laszlo fell hard, not being able to brace himself for the landing, and laughed painfully.

“How ‘bout you take these fucking binds off and we dish this out in front of yer little master here, hah?” Laszlo taunted, laughing when both guards flushed in anger. Suddenly there was a cool blade at Laszlo’s throat and his laughter stopped. King Roland had smoothly crouched and placed the dagger closer, making the boy’s Adam’s apple bob in nervousness.

“That is enough,” he commanded simply, and there was no question to it with the way everyone stiffened. Looking up, Roland beckoned the guards out with his eyes.

“Shut the door and go home for the evening, I’ll take care of...this,” he murmured, keeping his amber eyes on the back of Laszlo’s head, and the doors shut promptly.

The king watched the boy become more twitchy and restless with the neverending silence, the pair only hearing the quiet crackling of the fireplace and their own breathing. Lowering his head, Roland clinked the dagger upwards, causing Laszlo to flinch.

“Will you behave if I untie you, or are you going to be an unruly little boy, Jim?” Laszlo gulped at the question, flushing at being so physically close to the king. 

“...I won’t do nothin’, get these off me,” Laszlo quietly said through clenched teeth. The king tutted, dragging the tip of the dagger down the boy’s throat.

“Address me correctly and I will think about it.”

Laszlo stayed stubbornly silent. Roland’s other hand suddenly had his hair in a punishing grip, making Laszlo wince.

“Alright, gods...your-your  _ Majesty _ ,” Laszlo ground out, panting slightly. The king hummed in amusement, letting go of the boy’s hair and going to cut the ties binding his hands. Rubbing his wrists, Laszlo stayed still as Roland cut the ties around his ankles, blushing at the man’s hand resting against his bare leg. 

“Good boy,” Roland said, rising and beckoning the half-elf to do the same. Laszlo stood, hands using his loose shirt to cover over his lower front.

“Heard you and your group came back into town today,” Roland began, motioning Laszlo to follow him to the fireplace. The king poured two glasses of a dark wine and padded back in front of the younger man, offering him a glass. Laszlo took it with one hand, the other still covering himself as he stared at the taller man, cheeks flushed at seeing the king so...underdressed.  _ Also that I’m fuckin’ underdressed in front of Him, kill me, gods kill me. _ Sitting back in his chair, Roland waved his hand for Laszlo to sit in the other, to which he complied, sitting on the edge in an uncomfortable position. 

“Didn’t want to say hello? We have unfinished business,” Roland continued. He looked over to Laszlo’s stiff form right as he was about to sip, and scoffed.

“Boy, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t use poison. Drink,” he commanded softly. Locking eyes with the younger man, the king sighed and took a long drink, pointedly raising his eyebrows up. The boy’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, and he looked sheepishly away as he took a swig. It was some kind of sweet cherry wine, and he took another drink as the king made himself more comfortable, his robe parting slightly at the legs.  _ Fucking hell kill me, I don’t need to see king bitch himself’s bare ass legs, oh my god _ , Laszlo thought, hating every second of his little situation.

“We-we were going to see you tomorrow, I think,” Laszlo said, not liking how the king was staring at him. “You could have just fucking asked for me, I would have come. Why’d you drag me out in my...like this?” Laszlo spoke, knees locked together tightly.

“I wanted to remind you of your place,” the king said solemnly, making Laszlo freeze, jaw clenched. “My country hasn’t been doing too well since you left. And correct me, but it seems that when you came to me with potential secrets for Regno, my kingdom was attacked  _ by Regno _ , and you were nowhere to be found.”

Laszlo let out a noise, going to place the drink on a nearby table and reply, but the king snapped his fingers, shushing him.

“I’m not finished, don’t be rude. Drink,” the boy nervously sipped, although his stomach churned.

“As I was saying. I have been hearing things, see, about possible spies at work, about people coming in with...information, and then suddenly vanishing. Now doesn’t that sound familiar? You wouldn’t be lying to me about your position here, would you?” The king took another long drink, watching the boy across from him. After an awkward pause, the king raised a hand.

“Speak.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Laszlo blurted. “I promise you, it--we, shit. There was no time to tell you, everything happened so fast. We went to take care of the mission you gave us, but the timing was just bad. I should have written to you directly...but I didn’t know if you’d ever see the message because shit hit the fan here.” Roland stared, face impassive as the boy rattled on.

“I know I said I’d give you information before, I can do that now, it just--it was awkward timing is all--,”

“You decided to leave right when we were ambushed? You couldn’t aid my country when we needed help?” Roland demanded, draining his glass and placing it on the small table, eyes boring into Laszlo’s form. Laszlo lowered his cropped ears, slightly intimidated at the king’s raised voice.

“I...We went where you told us to go. I promise it isn’t how it sounds,” Laszlo tried to keep a level head. He heard the king tell his guards to go home for the night, but Laszlo knew better than to raise hell with the fucking king himself. He was out of his comfort zone, laid bare and vulnerable, and he wasn’t about to stir shit up when he knew he couldn’t run away.  _ You can’t say no to a ruler. _

“What matters is we’re back now. I don’t know what the situation is here nowadays, but we just wanted a breather from our journey before we came to you--,”

“Not everyone is back, though, boy,” Roland felt his patience getting a little thin with the half-elf’s useless rambling. “You had a crew. Where are they?”

“Uh...we were kind of split up a bit...but we contacted them shortly after we returned here. They’re sailing, think they said they’d be coming back in around a month or two…”

The pair stayed silent after that, the king crossing his legs and sitting back in his chair as he continued staring at the boy.

“Is that why you wanted me here so um, late?” Laszlo asked distractingly, “You’re right to be concerned, but I assure you we are on your side,” Roland studied the half-elf, not used to seeing him act so genuine.  _ Or nervous _ , he added internally, watching the boy’s hands fret around his loose shirt. Roland’s eyes lingered on Laszlo’s bare skin. 

  
  


“You have more ink, I see,” Roland interrupted, causing Laszlo to choke slightly on his drink. 

“Sir?”

“I remember the ridiculous markings on your arms and chest, but I don’t believe I’ve seen the rest,” Laszlo cleared his throat again, taking the bottom of his tank and covering his lap as best he could, not looking at the king. Laszlo’s empty glass was abandoned on the small table next to his chair.

“I don’t--what, what does that have to do with anything?” He gruffly asked, trying to mask his nervousness with anger. The king saw right through him, smiling slightly. 

“Let me see them.” Laszlo shot his head up in disbelief, eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

“Take off your clothes,” Roland smoothly said, “or I’ll have the guards outside do it for you.”

Laszlo stayed silent, green eyes staring into the king’s amber ones in complete shock. 

“I don’t understand why that’s--,”

“You promised me information, acted like some little anti-Regno warmonger, then fled the country for two months, just to return out of the blue, and you think everything would be civil between us? You swore loyalty to me, and I’m getting what I am due. Take off your clothes,” Roland commanded once more, glaring at Laszlo’s incredulous expression.

“Gods, you’re serious, aren’t you? Hell no, fuck this!” Laszlo made to stand and leave.  _ This is too much, fuck a few broken ribs, I’d rather take some hits than deal with this creepy shit,  _ he thought as he sharply rose from his seat.

“You leave this room, and I’ll return you to her,” Roland solemnly stated, lazily resting his face in his left hand. Laszlo froze.

“Either you strip and do as you’re told or I take you back to Regno. I’m sure Tuathali would love to see you again with your new little style, although she might miss the long hair,” the king watched as Laszlo stood perfectly still, fists curled at his sides.

“This isn’t right,” the boy spat.

“You,” Roland pointed a long finger towards Laszlo, “are one of the most disrespectful boys I’ve ever met, and I will not tolerate you and your actions towards my realm. I expect full loyalty from those who do my bidding, and I have not received that from you. If you expect me to harbour you in safety, you’ll do as you’re told” Laszlo bitterly turned to face the king, eyes glaring yellow-green, wishing to the gods he could rage and rip the older man’s throat out.  _ Just...they’re just clothes,  _ he thought miserably.  _ Maybe he just wants to scare me. _ Begrudgingly, he began to take off his shirt.

“Ah ah, underwear first,” Roland stated, eyes never leaving the boy’s. He saw the young man’s jaw clench, saw those nostrils flare for a split-second. Laszlo kicked off his briefs, shimmying them down and stepping out, keeping his eyes locked with the king’s. Cupping his privates, Laszlo tried to breathe evenly as he waited for his next command. Roland lazily snapped his fingers once more, Laszlo taking the cue to remove his shirt next, and then he was fully naked. In front of the fucking king of Korstrum himself, and he couldn’t feel smaller.

Roland stayed silent, his eyes looking the half-elf up and down, lingering on the gnarled scar on the younger man’s lower belly. He beckoned him to come closer. Laszlo let out a shuddered breath, gingerly stepping in front of the seated man. 

“Kneel.”

“Yea go fuck yourself, respectfully speaking,  _ sir _ ,” Laszlo bit back a snarl, keeping his eyes lowered. Roland let out a chuckle.

“I figured as such,” the king smiled. “Closer.” The half-elf padded over until he was right in front of Roland, cheeks reddening further in embarrassment. 

“Bring your leg up, place it here,” and Roland motioned to his right armrest. Stubbornly, Laszlo did as such, awkwardly spreading himself, hands still covering his groin. Being so close to the king, the boy smelled the warm spices of the man’s cologne, and he gulped, looking anywhere but in front of him. 

“Move your hands,” Roland said next, amused. 

“No.”

“Boy,” the king warned.

“I won’t,” Laszlo growled. Roland suddenly, expertly aimed the dagger from before right at the boy’s heart. Laszlo cursed, standing perfectly still. 

“Keep testing me, you might lose something a little more...valuable, next time,” the king smoothly threatened. Laszlo removed his hands and brought them up in surrender, feeling defeated. Roland hummed appreciatively, removing the dagger and lowering his eyes to the boy’s impressive softened cock, noting the little heart tattoo right above it to the left.

“...How tasteful,” he sarcastically commented, reaching a hand out to ghost over the heart. Laszlo startled at the touch but kept quiet, too shaken to move. The king took his time running his fingers along the boy’s pale, tattooed leg, then closer towards his inner thigh.

“For such an insolent brat, you sure are pretty, aren’t you…,” the king muttered, squeezing Laszlo’s thigh. “And you smell surprisingly clean, almost sweet. I figured with how you act in public you’d be filthy. Are you wearing perfume?” Roland moved closer, his dreads pressing lightly against Laszlo’s pecs as he sniffed him. 

“You’ve got many scars, it seems,” Roland noted, tracing one close to his groin, “did they come from her?” Laszlo bit his lip as the king’s hand brushed against his softened dick, and curtly nodded.

“Tell me what you know.” And Laszlo quietly divulged his secrets of Regno as the older man traced his tattoos, getting the boy to place his hands on his clothed shoulders and move closer. Eventually, Laszlo was told to sit spread on the king’s lap, looking away in shame as Roland had his hands on the half-elf’s plush ass, rubbing small circles around the tattoos there. Laszlo continued answering the king’s questions, and could feel the man’s hardness through his robe, and swallowed. They remained like this for a while, and after Laszlo finished speaking, Roland remained silent, as if deep in thought.

“Thank you,” he quietly murmured after a while, both hands on the boy’s ass. 

“N-no problem,” Laszlo mumbled, clearly uncomfortable in his situation. “Can I leave now?”  _ Please let me leave please, I can’t fucking believe this. _ Roland chuckled again, his chest brushing against the half-elf’s. 

“I don’t think so,” he gripped both cheeks, spreading them slightly. “You aren’t done proving your loyalty to me.”  _ Fuck. _

Laszlo let out a slow, shaky exhale before he spoke.

“S-sir, I have someone--”

“You should be honored that I’m even touching you in this way,” Roland interrupted, brushing his stubbled cheek near Laszlo’s ear as he looked over the boy’s shoulder, staring down at the boy’s spread cheeks.

“I don’t--,” Laszlo gasped as the king suddenly cupped his ass and stood, holding the boy tight to him as he strode towards the bed. 

“No no, hey come on, please--,”

“ _ Please _ ? So you do know how to beg,” Roland let go and watched Laszlo bounce on the bed as he fell. Not leaving time for the boy to think of an escape, Roland climbed on top and brought the dagger back out and placed it against Laszlo’s neck, pressing down lightly.

“Roland, please--,”

“You said you’d behave,” Roland said, his own cock twitching at the boy’s fearful expression.

“I--this wasn’t what I meant,” Laszlo quickly said, “I gave you what you asked, let me go back-,”

Laszlo was fucking terrified at this point, but couldn’t bring himself to even raise a hand against the man above him. _ He’s the goddamn king, I can’t touch him.  _

“I told you I’d teach you how to obey,” Roland brought the dagger to Laszlo’s lips, pressing the blade against them. “Will you behave, or will you deny your king?” Laszlo made a frustrated sound as Roland raised one of the boy’s legs up, wrapping it around his waist.

“I-I won’t fight you, but please don’t do this, I have someone and--,”

“Who? Which one is it?” The king asked, catching Laszlo off-guard. “I can send them an apology signed by me, should you think to run your mouth.” The threat made Laszlo’s stomach drop, eyes glued to Roland’s stern gaze. He smiled cruelly.

“Tell me, or I’ll just inform them all tomorrow when you come back to me.”

“...he isn’t here right now, he’s on the ship,” Laszlo mumbled, tears beginning to form. 

“ _ He _ ? Mm,” Roland mouthed at the boy’s jawline, moving the dagger to Laszlo’s chest. The king’s scent was overwhelming, a mixture of warm, musky woods and smoky spices, and the younger man whimpered as the other man’s stubble scraped along his jaw, smelling the alcohol on the man’s breath.  _ Shit he must have been drinking a lot. _

“The name, boy. Tell me his name,” Roland continued, pressing down and pinning the half-elf to the bed by his hips. Laszlo kept his hands up to the sides of his face, struggling to breathe or think straight.

“...Erran.” 

“And which one is he?” 

“Sir I won’t--I won’t tell anyone,” Laszlo lied, moving his face to the side as Roland leaned in closer, lips brushing against a cropped ear.

“That’s not what I asked,” he whispered, pressing the dagger down in warning, Laszlo’s breath hitching at the sharp sting of a shallow cut.

“He-he’s the firbolg, big tall guy,” Laszlo strung out, flinching in pain as the king took his earlobe in his mouth, teasing the soft flesh.

“You continue to surprise me,” he chuckled, “you keep yourself looking and sounding like such a scary brute, yet when you take off all those layers, you’re just a young, foolish little boy, aren’t you? Need some older man to teach you, to make you feel special. How pitiful,” Roland placed the dagger on the side of the bed, just in arms reach.

“Don’t make me regret putting that away,” he warned, and Laszlo nodded quickly, keeping his hands up in surrender. Roland leaned up, swiping a pillow and proceeded to roughly place it under Laszlo’s hips, angling his ass a little higher in the bed. Ordering the younger man to stay in place, the king stepped off, fully disrobing and showing off his strong build, muscles cording down his stomach, a trail of dark curls lowering into his groin; his cock was average, yet to Laszlo it was the most intimidating thing he’d ever seen. 

“Sir, please don’t do this, I’ll do what you want but not this,” Laszlo begged, not moving a muscle, too scared to move. 

Roland moved towards one of the end tables near the bed, opening a drawer and pulling out a small bottle.

“Your Majesty,  _ please _ .”

“Are you not experienced in this...manner?” The king coyly asked as he sat down near Laszlo’s spread legs, uncorking the bottle and dabbling some liquid on his fingers. Laszlo tried to keep his breathing even, face flushed a deep red.

“I-um--,” Laszlo gasped at the feeling of cool, wet fingers pressing against his asshole, hands suddenly gripping the thick bedcover in surprise.

“It’s amazing how  _ shy  _ you are, I thought you’d be ripping my neck open at this point. Sit still, now,” the king diligently moved two fingers into the boy’s ass, being somewhat careful as he worked the boy open for him. 

“Surely this isn’t your first time in this position. Not after what you just got done telling me from your...little predicament with Tuathali. Tell me, boy. Did she take you like this too?” 

Laszlo was too focused on those fingers moving upwards in a curling motion to fully understand what the man had asked him. _ Fuck it’s been too long, please gods don’t pop a-- _

King Roland suddenly chuckled, watching Laszlo’s soft cock rise, twitching slowly to life. 

“I thought not, your body knows what it likes. Answer me, Laszlo,” cropped ears perked at hearing the king use his actual name, eyes watering in frustration at being so turned on.

“What?”

“Did Tuathali touch you like this?”

“...no, she would watch,” Laszlo quietly muttered, hating that his hips were meeting the steady rhythm of the king’s fingers. He was moving at a snail’s pace opening him, and it was driving him insane.

“She seems the type. Who would she watch you with?” King Roland inserted a third finger, pressing deeper.

“Ah-um...mostly the...guards,” Roland let out another chuckle, wiggling his fingers quickly until Laszlo sharply moaned, a thick drop of precum drooling out of the boy’s thick cock.

“So that’s why you always put up such a strong little act in front of them. I wondered why you were so confrontational anytime they’d be involved; think they want up your skirt? I bet some of them do,” he laughed, removing his fingers and palming his own member with the remaining lube. Laszlo wanted to run for the door so badly, but he dare not refuse the king, of all people. And he couldn’t raise a hand to him, that’d be treason. Laszlo whimpered in frustration.

Roland lined himself up, pressing his cockhead against the ring of muscles, and brought a hand to Laszlo’s chin, gripping tightly.

“You turn your head away, you close your eyes, you so much as blink too slowly and I’ll bring the guards in and have them fuck you bloody, do you understand?” Tears rolled down Laszlo’s reddened cheeks at hearing the king curse, but he nodded. Roland patted his cheek roughly,

“Good,” and then pushed himself in, groaning low at the tight, warm pressure enveloping his cock. Laszlo grunted, but didn’t look away from the king’s gaze, and tried to ignore the fiery burn of being breached too soon. The king set a slow but powerful pace, pulling out slowly and then roughly pushing his narrow hips forward, shoving his entire length into that suctioning heat. Roland moaned, the sound vibrating Laszlo’s being as he continued his pace, never once breaking eye contact with the other.

“You take it so well,” Roland panted, smiling as Laszlo’s nostrils flared in anger. “Do you like being used like this? Little slut, bet you enjoy your pussy getting pounded. Say it,” Roland gripped the sides of Laszlo’s face, moving close enough so their mouths brushed against each other with each hard thrust.

“S-say what?” Laszlo asked through clenched teeth, forcing himself to not meet the man’s hips with his own.

“Say ‘I enjoy getting my pussy pounded, your Majesty,’” the half-elf openly moaned at hearing the filthy phrase come out of the king’s mouth, his cock twitching again.

“I...I enjoy…hah,” Laszlo began, but couldn’t continue as Roland brought his lips to his own, dominating the boy’s mouth and pressing deeper in.

“Don’t look away,” Roland scolded, biting the half-elf’s lower lip as he closed his eyes for a split-second.

“Sorry-sorry, yes sir,” Laszlo quickly said, struggling to maintain eye contact when being kissed so powerfully. He was never one to keep his eyes open when kissing in general, always getting too overwhelmed and embarrassed, so this was new territory for him.  _ And of course it’s with the fucking king. _

“Hmm...like it when you’re all shy,” the king mumbled, his pace turning harsh, “I’m waiting, boy.”

“I... _ gods _ , I enjoy gettin’ my...my pussy pounded, your Majesty,” Laszlo brokenly said, having to pause and moan at the quickening movements; his cock was drooling more pre, being squished against him and the king’s stomach. 

“How pathetic,” Roland moaned, kissing the boy’s lips once more as he humped harshly into him now, his movements making the headboard creak against the wall. Laszlo couldn’t stop his sounds if he wanted to; getting too worked up at being taken over, having to say such filthy things in front of the king, having to take his cock.

“Oh-oh--,” and Laszlo abruptly came as he stared into the king’s amber eyes, his cum shooting between the pair and surprising Roland as he fucked into him harder. He laughed, rolling his hips and enjoying the tightening hole pulsing around his dick. 

“That didn’t take long,” Roland snidely said, “but I didn’t say you could cum yet, boy.” Laszlo panted, his chest heaving as sweat dripped down his brow.

“Sorry sir, I’m sorry,” he winced in pain as the older man fucked into him even harder, his oversensitivity making everything too much for him to handle.

“Who do you belong to?” Roland gripped his hair, pulling him closer.

“You, sir--ah!” Roland gave a quick, cruel slap to the boy’s face.

“Again.”

“You, belong to you,” Laszlo moaned in pain, flinching when Roland kissed him once again. He suddenly felt the man still, growling in his mouth as he came deeply in the boy. The king closed his eyes in pleasure, his entire weight dropping onto the half-elf as he blissfully enjoyed the feeling of his softening member still being encased in tight warmth. Laszlo found it hard to breathe, but the king placed his forehead against his, and he forced himself not to make a sound, eyes still glued to the man’s closed ones.

After a small pause, the king’s eyes fluttered open, smiling as he met Laszlo’s scared gaze once more. He patted the boy’s cheek, and began to hoist himself up, his cock slowly being removed. Rising from the bed, he padded to the end table, receiving a cloth to clean his spent cock with. Laszlo didn’t move, still keeping his eyes on the man for fear of disobeying. 

“Get up, turn around,” Roland commanded, snapping his fingers at Laszlo’s still form. The younger man quickly scrambled to his knees, scooching towards the edge of the bed and putting his feet on the carpeted floor. The older man closed the end table and turned to the boy, annoyance written on his face.

“I said turn around.”

“Sir I can’t do that and still...I won’t be able to look at you if I’m…,” Laszlo tried to say quietly, feeling exhausted but still on high-alert of his situation.

“Are you questioning me?”

“No, I--” and the boy cringed as Roland stepped back in his space, grabbing a shoulder and flipping him; his legs splayed awkwardly on the ground as his front pressed into the bed, arms curled. Laszlo quickly spun his head to try his best to keep eye contact, and Roland smiled, patting an asscheek.

“Good. Spread yourself.” Laszlo timidly brought his hands back to spread his own cheeks, revealing a glistening little pucker, a small amount of the king’s cum seeping out. He tried to clench himself together, to make sure no more came out, but it was a useless endeavor. 

Laszlo watched as king Roland unveiled a wide, girthy plug, and he shuddered as the dry base pressed against his opening. 

“Sir--”

“Shut up,” Roland spat, smacking the boy’s left hand harshly, earning a whimper. He inserted the plug cruelly, pressing too deep too quick and Laszlo cried at the dry stretch, finally letting out a groan as the largest part of the plug sunk into his ass. With the rest in, the little tip of the plug nestled right between the boy’s cheeks, and Roland wiggled it around, making Laszlo freeze up and clench his teeth.

“Keep that in, boy,” Roland rubbed a hand down the boy’s tattooed back, pulling him to sit up and stand. Laszlo complied, struggling briefly as the plug moved uncomfortably inside him as he moved. Once he was standing in front of the king, Roland clapped twice, and the doors suddenly opened back up; two armored guards coming back in with their swords drawn. Laszlo yelped, swivelling and bringing his hands up to shield his chest, absolutely terrified.

Roland turned to get himself another glass of wine, sitting back in his seat as the guards moved closer towards the naked younger man. 

“Bring him over here, and careful, don’t hurt him too badly,” he lazily brought a hand up, and the guards moved in, gripping Laszlo’s frame and delivering a cruel punch to his gut when he tried to duck away. The other picked him from behind as he choked on coughed up blood, dumping him on the floor in front of Roland’s chair. Laszlo curled in on himself, openly weeping, trying to cover his privates.

“Your Majesty, may we?” One of the guards asked in a deep voice, crouching down to grapple the boy’s hip. Laszlo froze, pleading eyes looking up to the king as he leisurely sipped another glass of wine. Meeting the boy’s face, Roland raised an eyebrow.

“Hm...well, it depends,” he murmured, taking another long drink. 

“W-what what do you want, please anything--,” Laszlo begged, shivering from the guard’s hold on him. King Roland crossed a leg, glancing down.

“Get him up, on his feet.” The guards each gripped an arm, hoisting the trembling half-elf to stand on shaky legs, knees desperately trying to stay closed. Roland gave him a long, lingering gaze up and down his form.

“ _ Kneel _ ,” he said slowly, and Laszlo let out a broken sob. The king motioned for the guards to let go and as they did, Laszlo immediately dropped to his knees and bowed deeply, head to the ground. Roland was silent as he finished his drink, watching the boy cry beneath him. He then stood, towering over the younger man.

“ _ That _ is how you obey,” he said. “The next time you disrespect me, I’ll have my entire kingsguard have a turn with you, until you learn your place again. Do you understand?” He gripped Laszlo’s hair, wrenching his head up. The boy was sobbing, a hiccuping mess.

“Yes, your Majesty, th-thank you for the lesson, I will be--I’ll be better, please,” Laszlo brought a hand to the king’s wrist gently. “Please don’t let them touch me, I’m scared.” The king smiled at the boy’s fear, glancing up at the two stoic guards. 

“...Take him to the bed.” 

“NO, please! Roland what can I do, anything!” Laszlo sobbed pathetically as the guards ripped him from the king, dragging him back to the bed. They slammed him on the edge, his front pressed into the covers. One guard began palming himself as the other kept Laszlo in place. King Roland padded over, leaning on a bedpost and watched the display, a small smile on his lips. The guard unlaced his breeches and took his half hard cock out, rubbing himself on the boy’s cheeks until he noticed the plug. The king snapped his fingers, and both guards paused.

“Laszlo,” he called, “do you understand your position here?”

“Y-yes, sir--um, your Majesty.”

“And will you be a good little boy from now on?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

The king hummed again, rubbing his beard. The guards glanced at each other, the one holding Laszlo clearing her throat.

“May we?” She asked. Roland sighed, clapping his hands twice once more, and suddenly both guards’ hands were off of the boy; the pair nodding their heads to the king as they retreated. Laszlo gripped the bedcover to his face as he sobbed in relief, his body sinking down to the side of the bed as his body shook.

“Thank you, sir, thank you,” Laszlo muffled out. The king sat on the bed next to the boy’s crouched form, rubbing a hand through mauve locks.

“I am a forgiving king, boy. You’ve seen that here tonight. Be grateful for the gift I’ve placed in you. Now get up,” Roland said, and Laszlo crawled back next to him, completely spent and broken. Roland directed the half-elf to sit still as he brought a collar out of his robe-pocket, latching it tightly onto the boy’s thick neck. Laszlo touched the warm leather, removing his hand quickly as Roland attached a chain to the collar. Securing the chain to the top-right bedpost, Roland then got up, padding towards the fireplace to dim the flames, and crawled back into bed, removing his robe. 

“Under the sheets, now,” Roland ordered, and Laszlo timidly curled under the bedspread, watching the king as he shimmied until he had an arm wrapped around the boy’s middle, their legs tangling together. Roland inhaled deeply in the back of the boy’s neck, licking a lazy line up to an earlobe. The room became quiet, the crackling of the fire being the most prominent, and slowly the king fell asleep, wrapped around Laszlo. 


	2. Ch. 2

By morning, Laszlo had finally drifted to some form of sleep, but he was far from rested. He awoke to an empty bed, the covers curled around him tightly. Coming to his senses, he stayed still, waiting to hear any sounds. After hearing nothing but the fireplace, he slowly sat up, keeping the covers around his sore frame. The uncomfortable pressure of the plug made him shift around, but he tried to ignore the awful feeling. Looking around, he saw the room was empty.  _ Gods I’m screwed...Erran’s going to fucking kill me… _ he thought miserably,  _ the hell did I get myself into? _

He decided to stay where he was, laying back down.  _ Can’t get too far when you’re leashed to a goddamn bed _ , he bitterly thought. The covers smelled just like the king, warm and spicy, and Laszlo hated that it was a somewhat comforting smell.  _ Gods, what time is it...the others probably don’t even know I’m gone. _ As he fluttered his eyes shut, the doors both opened, and Laszlo jolted, looking up to see king Roland. He was in his finest garb, wearing the signature golden-plated armor and deep red cloak, crown resting snugly in his jeweled dreadlocks. One quick look at his stern frown was all it took for Laszlo to move.

He quickly removed himself from the bed, using a sheet to cover himself as he bowed deeply on the floor, choking slightly from the tight chain but keeping his head down. The king closed the doors behind him, clinking over towards Laszlo. Each metal scrape against the ground made the half-elf shrink lower to the ground.

“You’re a quick learner,” he praised softly, making Laszlo clench his teeth. “Look up for me.” Laszlo raised his head, flinching when Roland lowered down to place his hands on the collar, the man’s gauntlets cold against his skin. “If I take this off will you run?”

Laszlo shook his head silently, ears lowered. Roland grasped the half-elf’s chin, angling it better and swiftly removed the collar. Laszlo exhaled softly as he rubbed his neck. He ducked his head back down, making the king hum in amusement.

“Can I ask what time it is, sir?” Laszlo quietly asked.

“A little past 9, I’m sure your friends are looking for you, yes?”

“Y-yes, or well, probably,” he mumbled, shifting his position. “Might still be passed out from our drinking…”

“Best be on your way then,” Roland declared, rising to his full height, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I have business to take care of this morning.” Laszlo took the cue and stumbled as he stood, keeping the cover wrapped around him sheepishly as he awkwardly glanced around the room.

“I...do you know where my clothes went?” He chanced a look up at the king, curling in on himself as Roland invaded his space, Laszlo’s gasp puffing on his chestplate.

“Guard,” Roland called, clapping once, and the doors creaked open, revealing the younger, haughty-attitude-guard from the night before. He had a lazy smirk as he approached, a small bundle under an arm. Laszlo instinctively moved closer to the king, shielding his view of the guard as he came closer.  _ No no no, _ he panicked, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted in a sing-song voice, placing the bundle on the bed before leaving the pair alone again, shutting the doors behind him. Laszlo peeked around, worrying at his bottom lip and trying to remain calm.

“I had my men bring your pack; it will be more believable for you to have changed before you went out on the town last night, isn’t that right?” Roland asked, almost challenging Laszlo with his stern gaze.

“...yes, sir,” Laszlo agreed, taking a step back as Roland pushed forward. He leaned in, knowing the half-elf would be too terrified to stay upright, and smiled as the boy stumbled backwards on the bed, hearing him gasp in surprise. The king placed hands on either side of Laszlo, trapping him.

“And the reason you look so banged up is because you got into a...bar fight? You seem the type.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Hm,” Roland grew quiet, watching Laszlo nervously trying to maintain composure.

“Could I...can I remove the…,” Laszlo got too flustered to finish, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. 

“You have to use your words, boy, I know that’s difficult for you,” the king snidely commented. 

“The plug, sir...it’s starting to hurt.”

“You’ll keep it in until you return home,” Roland placed a heavy hand on Laszlo’s shoulder, his gauntlet pinching the skin. “I’ll know if you remove it before. Now get dressed, you’ve wasted my time enough as is.” Laszlo waited for the older man to move away, but he kept his place, eyes suddenly sharp, predatory. Taking a shaky inhale, Laszlo scooched back slightly to reach his bag, but the king suddenly pounced, twisting the half-elf’s shoulder so that he flipped on his stomach.

“On second thought, I want to see it one more time,” and Roland ripped the covers away, revealing the boy’s ass, keeping a gauntlet on his shaking lower back. Laszlo let out a scared little noise at the older man’s armored knee spreading his legs apart.

“No, please--mn!” Laszlo flinched hard as Roland’s hand rubbed between his cheeks, the plug nestled in securely. 

“Do you not like my gift?” He asked, rubbing his gloved thumb down the boy’s fuzzy perineum towards his balls. “If I had the time, I’d teach you another fun little lesson…” and he sighed, slapping a cheek and rising back to his full height, chin raised. Laszlo exhaled in relief.

“Now, get up.” Not needing to be told twice, Laszlo reached for his pack, quickly opening it and finding one of his loose white button-ups, and yanked it on so hard he almost hit himself in the process. He shied a glance behind him as he huddled on the bed; Roland had his arms crossed with that never-ending stare, a single eyebrow raised in disdain. The half-elf secured his faded green kilt on.

He rose from the bed awkwardly, wincing at the ache of the plug, not needing a mirror to know how rumpled he appeared. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Laszlo paused, looking down at his bare feet.

“Uh…,” He hinted, shuffling his feet around. The king looked down, sighing in annoyance. He clapped once again, and this time the older guard, the one who backhanded Laszlo from before, came through the door, looking grumpy as ever.

“Cormac, take this boy back to the mansion, but dump him once you near it. I don’t want his little friends putting two-and-two together.”

“Of course, your Majesty,” Ronald nodded his head, glaring at the younger man to follow him out. Laszlo gripped his bag closer, turning towards the king.

“I-I can go back on my own, I know the way,” Laszlo timidly said, knowing he was lying out his teeth. He was shit with directions, but anything was better than having to be escorted back by a fucking guard. Roland roughly pushed the boy towards Ser Cormac, Laszlo grunting as he almost fell to his knees from the sheer force. The kingsguard laid a heavy hand on the back of Laszlo’s shirt, pulling him out the door. The king strolled behind the knight, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Make sure he keeps it in,” Roland whispered. Cormac curled his lip in disgust, nodding curtly. Roland snapped his fingers, alerting Laszlo to look up at him one more time.

“What do you say?” Roland asked, almost as if he were talking to a scolded child. Laszlo braced himself, turning and bowing his head down, wincing as his movement jostled his bruised stomach.

“Thank you, sir,” he rasped out, ears red in shame. 

“For what?”

“For...for the lesson, sir.” 

“Good boy, I’ll see you this afternoon. Don’t be late.”

Cormac grumbled in impatience, his armor clinking making the boy startle. Roland laughed lightly, nodding to the kingsguard, and the older man gripped Laszlo’s shirt, finally making their way out of the king’s chambers.

As they walked down the hall and out of the castle, Laszlo shivered and tried to keep up with the guard’s fast pace, limping slightly. His feet were fucking  _ freezing _ . Once they were outside, they zigzagged their way through the public until Cormac led them down into a somewhat dark, vacant alleyway. He stopped at the end, pausing for a brief moment. Laszlo’s breath puffed out from the cold, his arms wrapped around himself. Whatever spell they put on him was still in effect, and he was running on empty. He grew concerned at seeing the dead end ahead of them. 

“Um, ser...where are we going?”

“Did you have fun?” Ser Cormac turned around, his bulky armor shining in the dim light of the alley. Laszlo kept his head down, not wanting to challenge the older man.

“From what the others told me, you and the king had quite the little session,” he taunted, his deep voice almost sounding coy as he gripped the pommel of his sword, approaching the cowering younger man. He backed him into the alleyway wall, Laszlo’s hands to his chest.

“Don’t want no trouble, ser,” Laszlo mumbled, too tired and cold to confront the man.

“Said you moaned like a little whore, crying and whimpering like a beaten pup,” Cormac watched Laszlo’s lip quiver, hearing the boy swallow nervously.

“I’m sorry for what I said, last night.” Laszlo gasped as the knight suddenly invaded his space, balling a fist into the boy’s shirt to lift him slightly.

“Are you now?” Cormac pressed, getting right in the half-elf’s face. “How sorry?”

Laszlo whimpered, his eyes darting to the side, slowly bringing his hands to the man’s fist.

“Wasn’t fair to you, you were just doing your job.”

“That’s right, my job.  _ My  _ job is to pick up little bastards like you with wicked tongues to be dealt with by the king. What’s  _ your  _ job?” Laszlo was too nervous to answer, yelping when the knight slammed his hand in the wall next to his face when he didn’t respond.

“To-to obey,” the boy quietly said.

“And how will you do that? Will you raise hell with me and my men again over any little thing, or will you keep your head down, lips shut, and go about your way like a good little cunt?” 

“I’ll be good, please. Please let me go home.” Ser Cormac growled in disgust, letting go of Laszlo’s shirt and backing off, eyes still trained on the boy’s form. He was quiet for a moment, noting how the younger man refused to look him in the eye.

“He must have done a number on you,” he commented. “From how you’re walking and acting.”

“I uh...I deserved it, ser. Nothing I can’t take,” Laszlo replied, looking down. There was another awkward pause, Cormac watching the boy shiver in place.

“You don’t look like you’ve been in a barfight,” he said. 

“...might need to hit me in the face a bit to make it look real, ser,” Laszlo said, finally glancing up to the older man’s brown eyes. Ser Cormac raised his eyebrows, impressed that the boy mentioned it before he could. He grunted in acknowledgement, beginning to remove his right gauntlet. Laszlo became confused, timidly observing the knight.

“Why take it off, ser?” 

“Don’t want to break your teeth in, even if you are a pain in my ass,” he gruffly said. “You ready?” Laszlo blinked, then braced himself, pinching his eyes shut. The older man swiftly backhanded the boy, hearing a sharp intake of breath as Laszlo’s head whipped to the side. The young man grunted, eyebrows furrowing. He looked up to the guard in slight annoyance.

“It needs to be real, punch me. I usually come out of fights with at least a split lip,” he said, a small spark in his eyes. Cormac bit back a laugh.

“Alright, have it your way.” And he docked the boy right in the face, a pained grunt echoing off the walls. Laszlo’s left cheek had a big, nasty bruise, blood dribbling out of his mouth.

“Thanks,” Laszlo cracked his neck to relieve the pain, bringing a hand to rub the mark. Cormac deftly put his gauntlet back on, turning around to leave the alleyway.

“Come on, this way,” he grumbled, and the pair continued their way back towards the mansion, the tension lessening the longer they walked. They stopped at a bar a few streets down from their destination, Cormac and the boy going into the near empty bar to speak with the barkeep. The knight tipped them heavily, mentioning “another king’s special, be sure to keep it downwind.” The barkeep nodded, going back to their work, and the pair walked out the doors. 

“Take a left down the next street and look to the right, it’ll lead you home,” Cormac said, pointing where the boy needed to go. Laszlo let out a small sigh, thanking the guard, and began to head down on his own.

“And boy,” Cormac called out, making Laszlo turn, “...watch yourself.” Laszlo gulped, briskly nodding, and walked as fast as he could back home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo I lied about them sketches lmao my b. Just wanted to get this out so I can stop touching it.

**Author's Note:**

> Ending is choppy but I'm workin' on another part; I'll post some doodles of what he and Laszlo look like in the next chapter maybe.


End file.
